


Somewhere just beyond my reach, there's someone reaching back for me

by Kono_Rohan_Da



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Brotherly Love, Childhood Friends, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, Fluff, Friends to Enemies, Kageyama Tobio is a Good Friend, Light Angst, M/M, Oblivious Sawamura Daichi, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Pining Oikawa Tooru, Rivalry, Sawamura Daichi-centric, Senpai-Kouhai Relationship, Slow Burn, Step-Brothers, Team as Family
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-11-28
Updated: 2021-01-03
Packaged: 2021-03-04 11:33:56
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 8,588
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24969019
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kono_Rohan_Da/pseuds/Kono_Rohan_Da
Summary: Ten years ago, Sawamura Daichi left his first friend and childhood love, "ToTo", with barely anything to remember him by. Daichi's want to meet with his long-lost friend suddenly increases in his third year at Karasuno, which also happens to be when fellow captain Oikawa Tooru suddenly decides to pester him a lot. He decides, quite easily and without any guilt, that he hates Oikawa.
Relationships: Kageyama Tobio & Sawamura Daichi, Oikawa Tooru/Sawamura Daichi, Sawamura Daichi & Ushijima Wakatoshi
Comments: 5
Kudos: 127





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you [gaydistriss](https://archiveofourown.org/users/gaydistriss/pseuds/gaydistriss) for beta reading this fic! Y'all know I'm so bad with editing....because I don't, sorry. But thank her for the smooth flowing chapter!
> 
> If some of my old readers are reading this and are like "wait a moment.....what happened to the _first_ story?" Well, remember that author's note of a chapter I posted like a month or less ago? Well, here's the re-write! Hope y'all like it! There's some twists just in this chapter that I haven't seen in any other fic, so it should be exciting for you guys too, I hope.

The only remains of a piece of the past he holds too close to his heart are the few memories he has of it: the pictures his father took, a string wristband, the emotions that rise in him, and the edges of a distant past wrapped in the embrace of a dream, leaving before he can ever get a grasp on anything more than high-pitched laughter and the feel of soft brown hair. 

Sawamura Daichi shakes his head, forcing himself to ignore the edges of memories he’ll never get to live again. _One foot at a time, you got this Daichi,_ his mother used to tell him, helping inexperienced legs slowly submerge into the swimming pool. He buries his face in his hands. “One foot at a time, one foot at a time into the future” he whispers. Out of all the days for his mind to suddenly want to regurgitate the past, today isn’t the day. Today, he needs to be _focused_. 

Today is the day that he’s a captain of a real, functioning team. No more tryouts. No more setter and orange child shouting at each other. Sure, he’ll have to ignore the glaring gap that Asahi and Nishinoya left, but that’s what a captain’s for he supposes: having the responsibility to put together the pieces of his team, both on and off the court. 

Today is also a Monday. He’s usually quite fond of Monday’s but...it’s also his fathers’ seven year anniversary. It’s been years since his mother has died and even though he’s so happy his father found someone, it just always makes him sad and happy at the same time when anniversary day rolls around because he’s reminded of what he lost. He was only seven when she died, the twins only two, not old enough to remember her. The only parents they’ve ever known is their biological father and his husband. 

That was when he moved to a different neighborhood, away from his best friend of all the years he could remember. ToTo-kun. He doesn’t remember his first name or his last name. He has exactly two photos of him, one of them also having ToTo’s neighbor, Iwa. Those are two of the few pictures that Daichi has hanging in his room, the rest being of his family and his volleyball team history. And yes, he is a very sentimental person, so he doesn’t usually throw things away, organizing them into boxes organized by year if he doesn’t use them for more than eight months. 

He didn’t realize he had moved closer to the photographs, forcing himself to lower his hand from where it hovers next to the one of him and ToTo. Daichi admits that he was a feminine looking kid with a round face and soft features. When he used to have friends come over, they would usually look at the photo and ask who “the cute little girl in the dress” is. He used to be embarrassed when saying that it’s him, but now he admits that he was a pretty cute kid, something he learned to identify while practically raising the twins with his dad, acting like a helicopter mom with how much Daichi would watch over them and snap photos of every little moment. 

He turns around and grabs his practice clothes from where he set them out the night before, quickly changing from his nightclothes into the shorts and t-shirt, pulling on his club jacket. He’s always been proud of how Karasuno just has their jacket whereas other teams usually have a full tracksuit. They don’t need flashy things like that ( _not that he thinks less of people with tracksuits nonono he now owns the one which his brother outgrew in his closet and it’s pretty comfy_ ). 

After brushing his teeth and getting his bag ready, Daichi heads downstairs, quickly walking down the stairs to get the rising jitters to become less distracting. He can smell something _good_ cooking in the kitchen and he knows exactly who’s cooking, and one of his fathers isn’t the answer. 

“Good morning! Smells delicious” he says to one of the reasons why he’s never had anyone from the Karasuno volleyball team over at his house yet. 

The thing is, Daichi lives in a household with not one, not two, but _three_ different family names. It’s a cozy six person family. His dad, the twins, his other dad, and his other dad’s son, who is now Daichi’s brother. And all of that became official five years ago when Daichi’s father, Sawamura Aoi, married his boyfriend of three years, Utsui Takashi. And thus Daichi gained a brother who he’s guiltily more close to than the twins, one now infamous Ushijima Wakatoshi. 

He remembers the ups and downs they’ve had in the past, especially when Daichi refused to return to Shiratorizawa after his first year of middle school there. He remembers the jealousy he used to harbor when it became obvious that his brother was becoming so much better than him, leaving Daichi behind in the dust. But he’s catching up, oh he knows. And even though both of them usually don’t show it, they’re pretty competitive, especially with each other. 

“What are you making?” Daichi asks, making his way into the kitchen after dropping his bag off by the dining room table. His lunch bento is already set out and packed, the cloth warmed by the heat of the food which has penetrated the container. Wakatoshi is mixing something in a pot with a pair of chopsticks. A soup, maybe?

“Miso, tsukemono, coffee, rice, tofu, nori, pork, and a few onigiri since there was extra rice.” So he was right about the soup. The anxiety that had started to plague him since waking up reduced to a wisp as the urge to suddenly take some food straight out of what it’s cooking in overtakes him, but he holds back. He moves closer to Wakatoshi and takes one of the onigiri. It’s perfect as usual. 

“Why pork and not fish?” He asks, taking a bite of the onigiri and closing his eyes in delight as he chews. 

“Father used all of it for the smoked salmon last night.” Daichi hears the chopsticks Wakatoshi was using be put down. “Is the onigiri to your liking?” Daichi cracks his eyelids open. His gaze focuses almost instantaneously on Wakatoshi’s finger which is almost a centimeter away from Daichi’s cheek, bulging due to the food inside. He _knew_ Wakatoshi was going to do that- he has done it numerous times in the past, of course. 

“Don’t you dare” Daichi tries to say through the food in his mouth. 

_Poke_

Wakatoshi dodges Daichi’s foot before it could make contact with his hip and the two are suddenly racing across the house just like they do every other week. 

“GET BACK HERE!” Daichi exclaims, rice falling out of his mouth. His legs pump faster and he skids around a corner. It’s easier for him since he’s less heavy than Wakatoshi and has a better center of gravity. Whereas Wakatoshi has to either slow down or slam into the wall before running again, Daichi just turns and pushes off the wall for extra speed and launches himself at his brother, tackling the ace to the ground. 

“Haha!” Daichi exclaims, squirming his way up so that he sits on Wakatoshi’s back, planting his feet on either side of his broad back to stabilize himself and to keep Wakatoshi from managing to knock him off. Even though Wakatoshi’s already eighteen and Daichi is a few months away, the two of them still act like kids. And Daichi loves it. Because outside of his home, he has to be mature and the one to keep people under control, a role which he somehow keeps on automatically receiving. Ever since his family extended, Daichi thinks he’s become a better person. He’s able to lighten up and shed the stress of school and trying to get a team to be great again from his shoulders. He gets to refill his dad joke reservoir from his father. And Wakatoshi, who seems so emotionless and stoic to everyone else, is probably one of the most secretly mischievous people Daichi has ever known. He also gets becoming better at volleyball along with those benefits under the tutelage of his father, Utsui, and Wakatoshi. 

“You lost. _Again_.” Daichi grins, flicking a finger against the back of his brother’s head. Wakatoshi glares at him out of the corner of his eye, the side of his face smushed against the hardwood floor. 

“You forget that I was the one who first subdued you the last time,” Wakatoshi replies. 

“You have to stop poking my cheek, you know,” Daichi says, crossing his arms. Wakatoshi’s shoulders move a little and maybe that was supposed to be a shrug?

“I cannot help it if you look like a chipmunk,” Wakatoshi replies. Daichi frowns. 

“What the heck is a chipmunk-”

“ _What_ are you two doing? Again!?” 

Five minutes later, the two of them are sitting at the dining room table. Wakatoshi’s cheek is red but it’s not going to bruise. Sawamura and Utsui scolded the two of them for fighting again so early in the morning and potentially waking up the twins. All was forgotten, though, when they remembered it was their anniversary upon seeing the food Wakatoshi had prepared. 

And it’s good. Wakatoshi has always been a good cook, something that he gets from their father. Their dad, on the other hand, can’t cook anything besides rice, clear soup, and microwave meals. Daichi is glad he didn’t inherit that characteristic. 

“So it’s both of your first week of real captainship!” Utsui exclaims. “Ah, I remember the good ol days. Aoi, you were quite formidable yourself.”

“ _More_ than formidable” Sawamura corrects. “It was the greatest victory Aoba Johsai ever had, and against Shiratorizawa, nonetheless.” 

“What do you _mean_ -” And once again Daichi and Wakatoshi resign themselves to watching their parents bicker about which of their two teams had a better volleyball team “back in the day”. The two haven’t even finished their meal when Daichi and Wakatoshi clear off the table and clean the kitchen. They even leave the house to go to school, both of them breaking into laughter once they leave the large property, leaving behind the traditional japanese style two story home to be hidden by trees once again. 

“You never told me how tryouts went” Daichi says as they walk, getting closer and closer to the intersection where the two of them part ways. “How many poor souls got kicked out? All?” Wakatoshi shakes his head. 

“None of the students who tried out made it. We do have some promising recruits, but that it all. What about you?”

“Four first years” Daichi grins. “We have ten players now, better than just a bare minimum.”

“...Azumane and Nishinoya have not yet returned?” 

Daichi shakes his head. “They need more time, I think. Two of them, Kageyama and Hinata, finally started to get along. Hinata can really jump and Kageyama is an amazing setter, but he just goes too fast for everyone and has too many expectations. But I can tell he’s working on that. He’s less intense than he was when I went to watch the middle school qualifiers.”

Wakatoshi nods. “Do you think you finally have a team worthy of your abilities?” Daichi sighs. He knows Wakatoshi means well and he’s being honest, but many people could see that question as a bit insulting. 

“Yes,” Daichi says, leaving no room for question. “And this year, we’re going to make it to Nationals. We’re not going to waste out chances. Just you wait, Wakatoshi- Shiratorizawa is going to have their worst loss since our dads battled it out.” Wakatoshi actually _smiles_ at this. It’s not a mocking, disbelieving smile. No, it’s one of reassurance and support. Pride. 

“If Shiratorizawa were to lose, it would be to the team you are on,” Wakatoshi says, tilting his head up to look at the sky. Daichi follows his gaze. The clouds are a soft pink. “But that is only if you stop losing.”

“Why you-” Daichi starts but he forces himself to relax, lowering his hand back to his side where it had risen again. He lets out a sigh. “I’m confident, Wakatoshi. And don’t try pulling that “you should have gone to Shiratorizawa” crap on me which annoyed, who was it? Aoba Johsai’s captain?”

“Oikawa Tooru, yes,” Wakatoshi replies. Daichi lets out a hum. He’s never seen the guy in person, surprisingly, with how much Wakatoshi (occasionally) mentioned him. From what he’s read in the mags, he thought Wakatoshi would have been more interested in their ace, Iwaizumi Hajime. Either way, he doesn’t really care. What he _does_ care about is that he’s sure that this Oikawa Tooru guy isn’t all that nice. Wakatoshi would always repeat exactly how his encounter would be like and each and every time, it sounded as if the setter grew more and more toxic. Wakatoshi already gets enough trouble from some of his classmates- he shouldn’t get more just because he’s verbally appreciating someone’s skill in one of the only ways he knows how. 

The reason that Daichi had become more involved with volleyball was because of ToTo-kun, the little boy who held Daichi’s hand while he stood in a white dress that Daichi clearly remembers donating after his mother had passed away. ToTo loved setting, eagerly clapping when Daichi’s hand made contact with the ball after wildly chasing after it across sand or grass. Even though both toss and spike would be sad, there would always be joy and laughter and cries for “one more!”

It’s a shame that there are people like Oikawa who turn something as pure and enjoyable as volleyball into something only about competition. 

“Good luck with practice,” Daichi says once they reach the intersection. Wakatoshi nods and without another word, the two go their separate ways, one to the regal grounds of eagles and the other to a rag-tag group of crows. 

That day during practice, Daichi starts them off with serving practice. He helps Yamaguchi out with a normal serve, since he himself also needs the practice. He’s grown too reliant on jump serves and jump floaters that he can’t properly execute a regular serve or floater. And he doesn’t want to put too much pressure on the new recruits to know something so fancy yet. As long as a normal serve works, it’s fine. And normal serves to allow for better accuracy, he admits to himself, sending another ball gracefully across the net. 

“Sawamura-san” Kageyama asks, coming up to him with a ball grasped between both friends in front of his chest. At first glance, Kageyama seemed a bit intimidating. Honestly, it reminded him of his first meeting with Wakatoshi who always seemed to be taller than Daichi, which only added to how intimidating he seemed when Daichi was only eight. 

“Please, call me Daichi,” he says with a smile. “I feel like my dad otherwise. What is it, Kageyama?” When the words of acceptance leave his mouth, he can see how Kageyama’s eyes brighten and his posture relaxes just a small bit. He is like another Wakatoshi. 

“Can I practice my jump serves?” Kageyama asks. Daichi considers it for a few moments. He remembers seeing Kageyama use a jump serve in the last tournament and it was good even though it hadn’t seemed that fluid or natural. If Kageyama already knows how to do them… he can wait a few more days, he thinks. Yamaguchi still isn’t comfortable with his serves, the poor boy’s arm trembling after just a few. 

“Maybe wait a few days. I really want to see how far you can go with your accuracy.” He ruffles Kageyama’s hair. The boy doesn’t stiffen or pull away. “Anyway, I can’t wait to see it again. You were really good out there in your third year.” Kageyama brightens even more. 

“Oh,” he breathes. “I learned from Oikawa-san, but he told me that I wasn’t good.” Daichi forces the warm smile to remain on his face. Once, again, this _Oikawa_ guy. That means Kageyama must have been in his first year. How can someone be like that to a _first year_!?

“Well, that’s obviously not true,” he says. “I know how to as well, so if you want to stay behind for a few more minutes at afternoon practice, I can give you some tips.” Kageyama quickly nods and bows. 

“Thank you very much!” the boy exclaims. “I’ll make sure all of my serves are good!” Daichi can’t help but chuckle as Kageyama turns around and scurries back to his spot on the court where he’d been practicing his serve. It’s either laughter or anger. Hinata turns and says something to Kageyama. The setter’s demeanor changes and he’s saying something to Hinata. A few seconds later and he’s shaking the shorter boy as easily as a chef waggling a noodle in the air. 

“You’re such a dad,” Suga says. Daichi can’t help but flinch, quickly turning around. 

“Suga! Stop doing that!” He demands. The teen just cackles. 

“Can’t help it,” he says with a shrug, trying to paint a false angelic look on his face. “I was only saying what I saw. Anyway, I think we got a good bunch this year. Nishinoya’s one month ban ends today, so he’ll be coming in for afternoon practice. You go talk to Asahi?” Daichi nods. 

“Of course.” He can’t help the excitement and dread he feels upon being reminded that Nishinoya, their libero, is returning. Yes, they _definitely_ need a libero. But also, he and Tanaka make both an awesome and terrible duo. Awesome because of how well they get along, and terrible for the same reason. 

It’s only after afternoon practice, with Yamaguchi and Hinata gwaing over Nishinoya’s receives, rounds of spiking practice, helping Kiyoko evade Tanaka and Nihinoya, and then helping Kageyama with his jump serves is Daichi finally reminded of that horrible Oikawa Tooru. 

Maybe they won’t defeat Shiratorizawa. But he knows that they _have_ to beat Aoba Johsai. Not for victory, not for success, but for one thing that Daichi rarely uses as an excuse: revenge. And yes, it seems petty to dislike someone so much who he has only seen in online videos and volleyball magazines, but Oikawa Tooru, he’s sure, isn’t a good man. And if it turns out he is, well...then he’s still going to win. He is not going to let Karasuno fall even further. 

He doesn’t know why but when he goes to his room to do his homework and stands in front of the photos on his wall, he feels longing, more than he has ever felt before. A yearning for a life he used to have, a friend whose hand he used to hold. Something else tickles the back of his mind but Daichi forces himself to go do his homework before he could get further distracted. 

The feeling is lost after a dozen derivative problems and erase marks scrawled across the workbook.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which more insight is provided into the Sawamura-Utsui household and Daichi grows closer to Kageyama. Takeda also delivers news of the upcoming practice match against Aoba Johsai which only fuels Daichi's need to become better and stronger with the intent of throughouly crushing the oposing school. It might also come with the side effect of being considered somewhat of a stalker in some people's minds...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am taking artistic liberty by bringing Nishinoya back into the fold a little earlier than in canon, since I screwed that fact up in the first chapter. I like to think it’ll add some more interest with canon plot-points since I know that people don’t want to read exactly what happened in the show and/or manga except from a different perspective. So except more changes to the timeline and events than the ones I’ve already made
> 
> From now on, Daichi will call biological dad (Sawamura Aoi) “dad” and Wakatoshi’s biological dad (Utsui Takashi) “papa”. Wakatoshi just...he has zero consistency
> 
> Once again, thank you [gaydistriss](https://archiveofourown.org/users/gaydistriss/pseuds/gaydistriss) for beta reading this fic and making it perfect!

Kageyama is a fast learner, that much is now obvious. The boy is persistent and isn’t fond of taking breaks but Daichi makes sure to reinforce information on how to take care of his body while he’s under his tutelage. Having only one pair of shoes squeaking at a time across the court is definitely strange. It’s also more than a slight bit creepy: just him and Kageyama, nobody else on campus, and the outside world only lit by safety lights and the moon. He learns and slyly teases Kageyama about it when he notices that Kageyama also flinches at the strange loud noises that come from beyond the closed gym doors.

It also makes him feel a bit better about himself. A bit disappointing that he’s comparing himself to a first year but this first year has a resting face that can put the resting face of the Karasuno’s libero during Daichi’s first year to shame. 

The first-year has this shine in his eyes everytime Daichi waits behind with him, forcing Tanaka and Hinata to leave so that he could work alone with Kageyama. Maybe it’s because he hadn’t gotten a lot of support from his senpais in middle school? He doesn’t know that much about Kageyama but it turns out that the first year becomes more talkative when he’s with someone friendly. He knows that most of the older members have grown attached to Hinata thanks to his excitement and how he just has the personality of a stereotypical younger sibling or kouhai perfect for mentoring, although Kinoshita has grown strangely fond of Tsukishima of all people. 

It’s nice, more than nice actually, to see the love in Kageyama’s eyes every time he looks at the volleyball, hands lingering on it as if he doesn’t ever want to let go of the glorified turgid leather air sack. And he seems more and more confident and proud of himself with every serve. The light dusting of red that floods his cheeks when he’s praised and the smile that crosses his face when he consciously tries to smile reminds him of his brother. Maybe it’s favoritism because of the fact that Kageyama’s the only one right now who Daichi can pass his knowledge onto, or maybe because he sees too much of Wakatoshi in Kageyama, but he’s pretty sure that he would prefer to spend more time with Kageyama than any of the other first years (which he’s doing already). 

Teaching Kageyama is more fun than how Daichi remembers himself being taught by his seniors when he was in his first year. He doesn’t mean to brag, but he had been better than most of the seniors of the team when he had joined. The only thing holding him back in the beginning had been his lack of confidence due to being at a new school and suddenly making the decision of going to Karasuno rather than Aoba Johsai. As he watches Kageyama toss the ball up and send it to the other side of the net, movements much more fluid that they’d been two days ago, he’s hit with a flash of happiness and also anger. Happiness because of Kageyama’s improvement and he wonders if this is how Wakatoshi felt while making Daichi a much better player. Anger because  _ Aoba Johsai _ . Even without Kageyama, if he had gone there, he’s sure he would have disliked Oikawa just as much as he does right now. Because besides the disrespect the other captain seemed to have had for the setter, the more critical memory in his mind is of Wakatoshi’s words floating around in his head, tales of Oikawa’s behavior and actions towards Wakatoshi. The hurt which his brother had probably felt now transferred to Daichi would have made for a tense team environment. 

It’s much more satisfying knowing that he can  _ pummel  _ Oikawa with the prodigy that the other boy had tossed aside entirely due to what Daichi is more than sure to assume is jealousy. And then he’ll go and pummel Shiratorizawa and he’ll show Wakatoshi just how much he has risen, just how much he has changed in comparison to that eight-year old boy who could only dream about the strength Daichi now holds in his body. Because he can feel it in the blood flowing through his veins, he can feel it with every step he takes, he can feel it with every thump of his heart which beats like taiko drums through his whole being. 

This is the year they’re going to  _ win _ . This is the year that instead of going to Tokyo to cheer Wakatoshi on, it’ll be Wakatoshi cheering Daichi on. This is the year his face will be on the TV screens, inspiring children who never thought that greatness could be born from those held back by those who breathe strength. 

But besides that, he wants to see the smiles on their faces. Instead of comfort from his dads and classmates, he wants to see pride and joy. Instead of faces looking at him as if they could keep him from breaking down, he wants those looks to look at him as if they’re saying  _ we did well, didn’t we? Now what are we going to do next? Who’s our next target?  _ He remembers the determined looks that Koushi, Asahi, and Kiyoko wore when they were first years. The uniforms which their senpais had worn, numbers passed down from generation to generation, reinforcing the thought that once those numbers are  _ theirs _ they will be better and stronger. And those looks? Those looks will turn bright and happy and proud because they’d have finally achieved what those before them hadn’t been able to. 

He wants his whole team to be happy! He doesn’t want the first years to feel crushed and disappointed like Daichi had been in his first year, working so hard only to get out in the second round. He wants them to taste victory and want  _ more and more and more  _ until victory is the thing they get bored of, not defeat.    
  


“You’re going to lose  _ so hard _ ” is the first thing Daichi says when he finally gets home, phone raised to his ear. He knows his brother well enough to know that the neutral expression on his face had long been softened and turned into an amused grin. Just like how Wakatoshi is the only one who can get Daichi to shed responsibility and maturity so easily, Daichi is the only one who can do the same to the other. 

“I believe you told me this yesterday and the day before.” 

Kicking off his shoes and putting them on the shoe rack he lets out a huff. One week has five school days and two break days. Monday to Thursday nights are when Wakatoshi lives at Shiratorizawa’s dorms, leaving Friday night to Monday mornings for the Sawamura-Utsui family to have their eldest child all to themselves. So phone calls, chats, and video calls are all Daichi has to ensure that Wakatoshi doesn’t forget any promises he makes, things their fathers have done out of sheer stupidity, and that he has to do all the chores over the weekends. 

“Yes, I know that already, but you wouldn’t believe how-”

“Quickly Kageyama learns, he really is a prodigy.” Wakatoshi cuts him off. “You have said so numerous times in the past few days. Has his jump serve become more magnificent?”

“Definitely,” Daichi assures. He peeks around the corner to look into the living room, padding over when he sees Utsui sitting on the couch, watching TV. “I mean, seriously- that kid doesn’t have that strong of a swing but I think it’s his wrist flexibility that lets it go fast. Hi papa.” He quickly gives his papa a one-armed hug, the man turning his head to look at Daichi, reaching up and patting his arm in return. 

“Oh, hey kiddo! Is that Toshi on the phone?”

“Yeah,” Daichi replies. “Waka- papa wants to talk to you real quick.” He passes the phone to the man who is more than eager to take the device. Daichi mutters that he has to go and put his stuff away and take a quick shower before leaving the two to talk. He only got a few seconds in but he knows Wakatoshi will continue the conversation once he’s done talking to their papa as if the man hadn’t been talking to him. 

The shower gives Daichi time to think, the warm water relaxing his muscles and forming trails down his face which feel like comforting caresses. Today was Wednesday...so...yes. He has to study for a kanji quiz his class has tomorrow and the classes which he has to prepare for tomorrow are some of his harder college prep classes, like math, science, and then there’s also the horrid conversational English (everyone’s accents are just so different than the one he gained from talking to his papa in English), history, and judo. Judo is his favorite class on Wednesdays because it comes right after conversational English, allowing him to rush to go change before it’s his turn to try and talk before the class with his “native” accent (if they wanted native, they should listen to his papa. Both of his parents still snicker when some of Daichi’s attempts at English come off as if he were just listing the katakana when he stumbles on a new word. It’s even worse when Wakatoshi is there).

But today…

It’s time to do all of the history homework he’d been procrastinating on, the pile slowly growing to a monstrous size. 

He quickly towel-dries his hair, leaving the strands damp but fluffy. Pulling on an old white shirt and a pair of purple sweatpants with a white sports-streak down the sides which had belonged to Wakatoshi when he was in middle school, he heads downstairs, jumping down the last four steps with a heavy  _ thud _ . He nearly slips on the floor in his attempt to immediately run to the living room, which means the roomba was active, and has to steady himself before reluctantly slowing to a fast walk. 

“Dad!” Daichi exclaims, because even though he sees the same two people everyday, he isn’t any less happy to see them. He hugs the man who looks like he just came home maybe five minutes ago. The tie around his neck is loosened and the exhaustion in his eyes tells Daichi all he needs to know about how his workday went. He makes sure that the hug lingers before stepping away. 

“I’ll talk to you later, Wakatoshi,” his dad says, the elder Sawamura looking very amused once he sees Daichi’s agitation born from the want to talk to his brother. “Here you go, Dai.”

“Thank you,  _ finally _ ” Daichi sighs to his parents’ amusement. Utsui snorts when Aoi makes Daichi jump a little for the phone. Why must he be teased so much for his height? “Wakatoshi, our dads are mean.”

“Yes I know that already.”

“They made me jump for the phone!” He groans, turning his back to their parents before walking down the hallway. 

“You did not defend me last week. You also took a photo of the occasion which you refused to delete.”

“...Waka, I don’t think anyone eats pizza with chopsticks. I had to immortalize the moment since I think you’d like to look back and laugh at the memory someday.” He passes the empty room which somehow became the designated study room over the years, filled with books and a PC computer, in favor of the tatami room. He loves the simplicity of it and he usually studies there, he admits, the calligraphy and traditional paintings made by local artists invoking a sort of calm inside of him. “Anyway,” he continues once he’s closed the doors, it even smells different than the rest of the house, “I was talking about volleyball before this. Anyway, I’ve once again come to the conclusion that Karasuno’s definitely going to beat you and Aoba Johsai. Hinata and Kageyama have lots of potential and Kageyama’s just been getting better and better at his serves. And yes, I know that serves aren’t the determining factor of a game, but he’s just, well, a  _ prodigy _ .”

“Do you not have anything else which we can converse about? It is very tiring, having to listen to the same thing everyday.” 

“Oh really?” Daichi raises an eyebrow, sitting down and leaning his elbows on the low-lying table, phone smushing against his face. “What’s been going on at Shiratorizawa?”

“We had a surprise practice match with a local college. They did fairly well and only defeated us by a few points.”

“...Five set match.”

“...”

“You see,  _ this  _ is why I didn’t go to Shiratorizawa!” He jokes. “Make sure you’re focusing on your studies too, onii-chan. Anyway, what did you learn from them?”

“My outlook towards jump floaters have been reinforced.” Wakatoshi hates jump floaters. Well, hate is too strong of a word. He’s always been annoyed with them, especially after it being the first “non-standard” overhand serve which he taught Daichi. Daichi had quickly become proficient in them and even though he now prefers jump-serves, it only takes a few warm-up serves after a long gap-period before he eases floaters back into his serving arsenal. “Satori also introduced me to  _ tsantsas _ .”

“Sansa?”

“Tsantsas.”

“What are those?” Daichi leans back in the seat. Even though he knows that volleyball will be his greatest love, cooking falls shortly after. He knows this because the same applies to himself. More than once he’s wondered if he and Wakatoshi would be less close if they were blood siblings. “Is it a type of food? Indian, maybe?” Wakatoshi doesn’t answer him. “Wakatoshi?”

“Ah, sorry. It’s just that even the word itself brings the images into my mind again. I don’t think I will sleep well tonight. It is a shrunken head- an object.”

A shrunken head? What?

“Tsantsas,” Daichi slowly repeats, “that’s what you said. Um...how do shrunken heads even work? Are they actual heads?” He gets up and exits the room, door sliding shut behind him as he walks to the study room. He’s quick to power-up the PC and switch on the monitor while Wakatoshi continues to talk to him. 

“Don’t look it up- I don’t want the same fate t-t-to befall you!” Wakatoshi stutters, struggling to find the right word, the normal formal structure of his speech dropping momentarily. That only succeeds in making Daichi even  _ more  _ interested to see what this thing is, the properties which made Daichi so freaked out. 

He clicks on wikipedia, clicking on a link so that he’s on the English version of the website rather than the translated Japanese site. He can’t help but lean forward, gaze flitting back and forth between the keyboard and screen as he tries to hopefully spell the word correctly. Tongue sandwiched between his teeth, he mutters each letter as his brother continues to warn against his decision. 

“Tsu...T-S-A-N-T-S-A-S.” Keyboard clicks accompany each syllable until he presses  _ enter _ -

And regrets all of his life decisions. 

He definitely knows more than half the words on the page, and even those he doesn’t know doesn’t hinder him. Because... _ what the hell this is actually a thing it is literally a shrunken head and he can’t pull himself out of this rabbit hole of suddenly looking up pictures and  _ gods  _ these things were actually  _ people  _ at one point but they just got decapitated and then mummified and their heads defiled _ -

“Daichi, are you alright?” Wakatoshi’s voice is strong and thickly threaded with concern. Daichi swallows, closing the browser and turning off the computer. He still stares at the dark screen, staring at his own faint reflection in the plastic black. “Daichi?”

“Y-yeah.” Daichi shudders, face twisting into a grimace. “Oh my goods, I’m definitely getting nightmares too. Thank your friend for me, Waka.”

“I already have,” he drawls, “And I was rewarded with a reasonable amount of manga to keep me awake tonight. I will probably fail to stay awake the whole night and my abilities during practice will be severely diminished but I would rather face Coach Washijo’s wrath than dream about the faces of those I care about eternally silenced as small heads.” 

Daichi’s face softens. He turns away from the computer, leaning against the desk it sits on. He holds one arm across his chest, holding his elbow in the palm of his hand. He forgets,  _ has  _ forgotten many times over, that Wakatoshi’s mind runs fast when there isn’t anything to distract him. For someone who comes off as blunt and single-minded, he is actually a very creative and thoughtful person as the holiday and birthday presents which their family has received over the years shows. 

“I have history homework piled up which I sadly have to get done tonight- can you help me after I have dinner?” Of course, the offer is more than just that. It’s for both of them, even though the proposal itself only seems to benefit Daichi. 

“Yes.”

When Daichi finishes dinner, wishes his dads “good night” after cleaning the table and counters, hed decides to finally go and get some work down. The exhaustion from practice is still there, causing his calves to burn just a little by the time he’s reached the top of the stairs. Once he enters his room, thinking about what he does, he gets distracted by the photos on the wall.His eyes linger on them, focusing on the one with appiness-reddened cheeks, a white dress, large brown eyes looking up at a lanky little boy with the most expressive face Daichi has ever seen. And in his mind, carefully styled chocolate hair decays and hangs, eyelids shutting and threads crossing over lips, skin darkening, head shrinking. The pain in his heart increases. It’s unreasonable that he has so much emotional attachment to a childhood friend who might as well be living in another country at this point!

“ToTo, what would you think of me now?” Daichi mutters, rubbing his eyes to get rid of the horrifying image. He has homework to do and a video call to start which will probably lead to him only getting a few measly hours of sleep, but it’ll all be worth it. 

* * *

They get news of the practice match Friday afternoon. 

It starts nice enough, the first years getting their club jackets, Tanaka getting another one because of how much he wore his out over break. Now that Nishinoya was back from his club suspension, Daichi was reminded of  _ just  _ how chaotic his team could be. 

Most people don’t notice it but Nishinoya and Tanaka aren’t the only two who are that chaotic. No- it’s  _ all  _ of the second years as a whole. The Dramatic Duo’s antics just provide a nice cover to the little (but annoying and clever) pranks that Ennoshita, Kinoshita, and Narita pull off. There was an especially memorable time last year when they put a little bit of glue on their water bottles so that the drinking nozzles wouldn’t pop out. The lids had also been loosened so when their captain for all of one term had fought with his water to get to the drink, he’d ended up pouring a whole bottle over himself. 

When Daichi became captain soon after that, he made sure to always be wary of his belongings. 

He remembers being sort of creeped out by Ennoshita’s gaze when he joined the team last year. There’s no way that someone with those sleepy eyes and relaxed face isn’t harboring some deep, dark secret. It’s no secret that he wants to hand the mantle to Enoshita after his final season of high school volleyball is over, but right now he isn’t sure if he should hand over some of that responsibility to him: there’s no knowing what sort of things Ennoshita could rally the other second years to do once he has a small shred of command. 

“I also have some better news!” Takeda exclaimed once jackets had been handed out, clapping his hands together. Koushi chuckles when Hinata and Kageyama unconsciously shuffle closer to Takeda. “I was finally able to arrange a practice match! It’ll be held next Friday at their gym.”

Narita raises his hand, his face also split into an eager grin. “Who are we playing?”

“Practice match practice match practice match” Koushi gleefully repeats, painfully elbowing Daichi in the ribs. “Nee- what do you think? I don’t think we’ll be able to get the negative goatee back in time but we’ll do the best we can!”

“Oh yes we will.” Daichi grins. He wonders who they’re going against, and also who actually accepted their request for a practice match. Sure, Takeda is much more eager than their last teacher representative and it shows but he doesn’t want a small private school with a bad team to be who they’re going up against or something.

“Aoba Johsai!” Takeda exclaims and the smile on Daichi’s face freezes. “They’ve requested that we have Kageyama playing as our primary setter, though.” The ice melts off on Daichi’s face, his smile along with it. He’s quick to look at his best friend, expecting confusion or anger or sadness. What he  _ hadn’t  _ expected was how his friend’s expression remained true and brighter, grin spreading impossibly wide. The vice-captain is quick to slink to Kageyama’s side, slinging an arm around the other’s shoulders. 

_ Aoba Johsai  _ repeats in Daichi’s head. Kageyama’s shoulders had stiffened at some point but hesitantly relaxed again under Koushi’s hold. On the other hand, Daichi finds himself standing straighter, eyes narrowing slightly, tongue pressing against the back of his teeth. And then it clicks in his head:

_ We don’t have to wait for the InterHigh! _

“Alright!” Daichi exclaims, clapping his hands together. “Aoba Johsai is a strong team” he forces through his teeth, “so we’ll have to train hard. Since Kageyama is going to be our primary setter for that match and they have some pretty strong players, we’re going to be working on defense!” To his immense pride and pleasure, he is not met with any groans- not even a sound from Tsukishima who started looking at Daichi at some point, a strange look on his face. 

When he gets home, his shoulders are sore. Even after the walk his wrists ache and the skin on his forearms remain red and stinging. But he feels more than accomplished, excitement thrumming in his veins. A practice match.  _ A practice match!  _ The last time he had led his team in a practice match the opponents had been mediocre, lacking motivation, and argued with themselves. Even though the third years were gone and Daichi was still trying to fill in the gap they had left along with the great Coach Ukai’s retirement, they still won by a large margin. 

“I’M HOME!” He exclaims upon bursting through the door, eagerly closing the door being him. He can smell something cooking from the kitchen and he  _ knows  _ it’s Wakatoshi. “Waka, you better make lots of protein! I want muscles just like yours by the time Friday it’s Friday again!” He hears laughter from the kitchen. Utsui sticks his head from around the corner, watching Daichi clumsily struggle to kick his shoes off. Why did he have to tie the laces so tightly?

“You’re in a good mood” he chuckles. “Did you defeat that national-level judo person in your class?”

“Nope- I got destroyed again,” Daichi grins. “ _ But _ Takeda-sensei was able to arrange a practice match: we’re going against Aoba Johsai next Friday and I can’t wait to pummel them into the ground.” 

“Hey, don’t be mean to the carriers of my legacy!” Sawamura cries, also from the kitchen. Are they making a family dinner? Daichi loves days like this, but he does have to watch the adults and what they put. 

“Oh honey, you know that your legacy has nothing against our Dai-chan” Utsui coos, retreating into the kitchen probably to be sappy. Daichi blinks and grins because he’s even more excited now. He can’t help it- he loves spending time with his family, even if it means his shower is fifteen seconds long, ice cold, and instead of using soap he quickly smears shower gel across his body while it simultaneously gets rinsed off by the water. Still dripping water, he hurries downstairs.

“Where’s Chiyo and Umetarou?” He feels bad ( _ more  _ than bad) that he forgot about his little siblings, but it is kind of hard since the two of them are closer to each other than Daichi or Wakatoshi and they go to a school even farther than Shiratorizawa regardless of them being fourteen. Besides volleyball, judo also runs in the family, which is what the twins have great athletic skill in. The school they went to was similar to Shiratorizawa as it has boarding and high standards in it’s more renown areas of athletics and education. The only difference is that it is slightly cheaper and is on the border to another prefecture. 

“They’re staying on campus over the weekend,” Sawamura says. “They’re hosting a local competition on Sunday so they have to do preparations for that.”

“Oh, are we going?” Daichi asks. 

“They asked that we not,” his dad groans. Daichi finally reaches the kitchen and the food smells even  _ better _ . Western style food, he sees. Utsui is pulling bread out of the oven while Wakatoshi is concentrating on something sizzling on the stove- it looks like he hasn’t noticed Daichi’s return yet. “By the way: Chiyo really wants to spar you when she gets back home. Apparently the older sibling of one of her teammates is in your class and you’ve been getting better. A shame we have to learn from our youngest about your successes.” Daichi’s eye twitches. Even almost a whole prefecture away his siblings manage to be clingy. Nevermind that- for some reason he expected them to forget about him in a week’s time, since unlike with Wakatoshi he mostly texts them and only has about one video call a week and maybe two phone calls, maybe more if they need help with homework or need to rant about whatever stupid thing the other did. 

It’s strange that at times he forgets that he even has little siblings- he’s just glad that they even have an iota of responsibility and maturity, which puts them far ahead of the other fourteen year-olds. 

“Hey- no welcome home for me?” Daichi cheekily grins, poking Wakatoshi’s back. Sawamura huffs at Daichi’s sudden abandonment of the conversation. Wakatoshi flinches in shock and looks over his shoulder, eyebrows raised out of amusement. 

“Welcome home” he smoothly says. “We’re having stroganoff.” Daichi licks his lips. That’s all the approval Wakatoshi needs because the soft smile on his face grows more solid. “You sounded very eager when you entered- father refused to tell me. What made you so excited that you couldn’t dry your hair properly?”

“ _ Well”  _ Daichi grins, quickly dipping his finger in the sauce that’s gathering in the pan Wakatoshi lords over, “practice match, next Friday, Aoba Johsai.” He can tell you the exact moment his brother’s eyes widen and they  _ shine _ . “You know what that means.”

“Yes- yes I do,” he breathes. Their eyes meet and both of them know what this is. Even though  _ he  _ may not know, for the two brothers, this is a challenge, a declaration. He’s confident that their request for Kageyama to be their primary setter is because of Oikawa, probably eager to see the kouhai he was never a proper senpai to on a team who should be easy to defeat, easy to prove that he’s superior because of the outcome of a single match. Even though Wakatoshi kept his mother’s surname to spare the legal hassle, he nevers plays as an Ushijima but as an Utsui. Daichi doesn’t need to say it out loud but he knows that his brother knows that he won’t go easy, he won’t hold back- he won’t just play as a Sawamura but also as an Utsui and with all the power that comes with that name behind him. Maybe Aoba Johsai doesn’t know their team’s history and all the power which they used to have, about the man who had lead them to victory against Shiratorizawa. Daichi likes to hold onto the past and  _ that  _ is what he is going to control to make them crumble. 

Wakatoshi gives the sauce, mushrooms, and whatever else in the pan one last stir before setting the chopsticks on the side so that he can get out another pan. “After dinner,” he says, “I have a notebook with information on each of Aoba Johsai’s players. I will make sure you know how to counter each of their favorite plays and how to inform your team on how to properly conquer them. This will be the year when we will finally be able to face each other.” Wakatoshi holds his hand out. Daichi grabs his brother’s forearm, the other doing the same as they stare at each other, wearing grins of unequal size but matching fervor. 

“And we can finally show dad that Aoba Johsai sucks.” He pats Wakatoshi’s other arm while Sawamura splutters in the background, Utsui cackling at his husband’s plight. 

Daichi and Wakatoshi stay up late that night, invading the tatami room and instead of using it as a place of peace, they use it as their headquarters for battle-planning. Daichi tells Wakatoshi all he can about his teammates, knowing that it is fair even if they go up against each other since he knows even more about Wakatoshi’s teammates since, even though it saddens Daichi to say so, they’re pretty much the guy’s only true friends. Diligently taking out his own well-used volleyball notebook, Daichi copies down all the information he can from Wakatoshi’s notebook while adding notes in the margins from what he observes from online videos. It seems like Oikawa Tooru is also a bit too interested in social media. His Twitter account is public and has an incredible number of followers and a surprising number of volleyball clips, at least one clip every-other-day. He doesn’t think Wakatoshi knew about this either because before they know it, both brothers are rewatching every one of Oikawa’s videos from the past moth, one of them from last week even included Oikawa boasting about his knew serve and then- lo and behold-  _ showing it off _ . 

Even though he goes by a supposedly cute username on Twitter, probably the main reason other teams probably haven’t yet taken advantage of, it’s still obvious it’s Oikawa because of his face. Obnoxious and self-confident. Even his username is obnoxious:  _ Milk Bread God _ . It’s even written in English in contrast to his mostly Japanese posts and profile information, some of the English which he uses causing Wakakatoshi to mask a laugh as a cough. 

This just makes Daichi even  _ more  _ excited. By the time Daichi notices Wakatoshi has fallen asleep sitting up and maneuvers the elder so that he’s lying down on the tatami mats it’s already three in the morning, almost four. He grabs pillows and blankets from the cabinet, sliding the pillow under Wakatoshi’s head before spreading the blanket over him. After making sure all the pens are capped, devices are put on charging, and zaisus pushed in, he turns off the lamps and joins Wakatoshi on the floor. It’s a struggle to find a comfortable position until, once again, he’s laying on his back in what his dad jokingly calls “serial killer position”. He’s just about to pass out and get enough sleep for weekend practice at ten when Wakatoshi lets out a loud snore, rolls over, and flings an arm and leg over Daichi’s body. 

It takes him five more minutes at most to fall asleep but this time his energy has died down, the excitement from knowing  _ exactly  _ how to bring Oikawa to the ground no longer filling his mind. Instead, he pleasantly remembers how they would fall asleep exactly like this in this very room upon laying down for a nap in middle school upon returning home, with Daichi on his back and arms straight at his side, Wakatoshi’s limbs flung over him. 

At least this one fact in his life hasn’t changed yet. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please drop a comment!


End file.
